by Jenna Scott
When a pop-up ghost in the graveyard part of the ride freaks me out, he draws his arm over my shoulders so I’m nested into him. All day long, he’s glued to my side, holding my hand or softly stroking my hip or lower back. Every second we spend so close together, it gets harder to remember that he made up a lie about me. Harder to forget that despite my insistence on us keeping this completely casual, I still love him.
Finally, it’s time for the infamous teacups.
“Do we have to?” I ask, nervously watching kids scream as they spin around in the brightly colored cups. “It looks a little intense.”
“Yup,” Hunter says. “It’s a rite of passage. You gotta go at least once.”
“That’s fair,” I say with a resolute nod. “But I get to pick the cup.”
We get in and I run across the platform toward the pink and white one with gold hearts on it. “This one!” I tell him, climbing inside. “It’s the prettiest.”
Hunter shrugs and slides into the cup across from me, looking like a giant. I can’t help but laugh at how his knees are practically in his face.
“Keep laughing,” he says. “We’ll see how amused you are when this cup starts spinning.”
Once the ride starts, he turns the wheel at the center of our teacup to make it whirl around. Faster and faster we spin, and I’m thrown against Hunter’s side, giggling so much I can hardly breathe.
“You want me to stop?” he asks.
“No way! Go faster!” I yell, holding on to him for dear life.
My head’s still in spin mode when we finally step off, and we laugh about our teacup legs as we stagger unsteadily out the exit.
“You want to get some real food in the DCA park?” Hunter asks. “As opposed to all the fried stuff they sell on this side? Unless you want more fried stuff…”
“I’d be down for some real food,” I say.
Hunter leads the way out of Disneyland and across the main entry plaza to California Adventure, in a breathless trek that ends at Pixar Pier, where we head inside the Lamplight Lounge restaurant. I can’t believe how classy this place is—with its exposed ceiling beams and brick walls, hardwood floors, and leather chairs, I feel like I’ve stumbled into a fancy gastropub in New York City.
My jaw drops when I see the menu—and the prices on it.
“Maybe we should just go to the midway and get corn dogs,” I whisper.
“Don’t be silly,” Hunter says, tugging the menu out of my hands. “I’ll order for us. Today is my treat, remember?”
I begrudgingly agree, but I don’t regret it. The lobster nachos take my breath away, and that’s even before the waiter brings out our sushi, tuna poke bowl, and spinach salad. This is so much better than any theme park food I could have imagined.
We’re so stuffed afterward that we just stroll around the park in a huge circle, walking through Cars Land, Hollywood Land, and Grizzly Peak before finally ending up back where we started at the Pier. As we watch people scream on the Incredibles-themed roller coaster, I squeeze Hunter’s hand hard enough to startle him.
“What? Are you scared of the Incredicoaster?” he asks.
I frown up at him. “Maybe a little. That doesn’t mean I’m not gonna go on it.”
“I like your style,” he says. “Come on, there’s no line right now.”
He holds my hand for the entire ride, and my initial scream quickly turns into an exhilarated laugh as the coaster races along at 55 mph. It’s so good that I make it the second ride of the day that requires an immediate do-over.
By the time we’re done, a fireworks show has started. There’s music too, and we watch from Pacific Wharf, the water below us reflecting the multicolored bursts of light exploding above our heads. I lean into Hunter, soaking up the magic of it all.
As we head out of the park, I realize how sore my whole body is from all the walking, but this might be the happiest I’ve ever been. I can’t remember having a more perfect day, to the point that my cheeks ache from all the smiling.
Hunter’s carrying our bag of souvenirs: the plushie of Bruni the salamander from Frozen II, which we both decided would make a great gift for Harry, since that little critter is his favorite part of the entire movie, surpassing his previous love for Sven; a Merida doll for Isabel, to thank her for the help with algebra; and a BB-8 for me.
Weaving our way through the Downtown Disney shops and restaurants on our way to the parking lot, stuffing our faces with hot beignets from the Jazz Kitchen express, Hunter asks, “Did you have fun?”
“So much fun,” I tell him honestly.
“What was the best part?”
“It was—” but my words are cut off by a gasp as I stop in my tracks, spotting Belle standing by a fountain.
She’s waving to all the fatigued families streaming by with a glowing rose in her other hand, decked out in the tiered yellow gown from the scene where she’s dancing in the ballroom with the Beast, her hair in a perfect half-updo with dark curls spilling over her shoulders and those gorgeous elbow-length gloves I always drooled over as a kid.
“It’s…it’s Belle…” I whisper reverently.
Hunter drags me toward her, my heart pounding the whole time. I know it’s silly and that she’s just a character actor employed by the park, but I still feel flustered. I’m so starstruck I can’t even manage to ask for a photo. Luckily, Hunter cuts in.
“Belle!” he shouts. “Can I please take a picture of you with my friend? You’re her all-time favorite. It’d mean the world to her.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Belle answers, smiling sweetly.
I can feel myself blushing as I stand next to her, and Belle and I make casual conversation while Hunter snaps away. I tell her she looks gorgeous, and she stays in character as she thanks me, saying Madame de Garderobe has the best taste in dresses.
After Hunter is done, Belle turns to me with a wink. “I’d best be off now to meet my prince. Looks like you’ve got your own prince waiting for you, too.”
Heat spreads to my cheeks, and I laugh. “Yeah, I guess I do. Thank you.”
When I walk back to Hunter, my stomach’s all bubbly, and my steps are light, feelings that only intensify the closer I get to him.
“So,” he says. “Was that the best part of your day?”
“Maybe. Or maybe it was just being here with you.” I look up into his eyes, hoping he can tell how happy I am. “Thank you for today, Hunter.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, and my heart nearly bursts out of my chest when he lifts my hand up, smiling as he presses a soft kiss to my knuckles, just like a prince.
Our eyes lock, and I can feel it. This isn’t casual.
I don’t think we can ever just be casual.
Chapter Twenty
Camilla
I’m in bed at a decent hour, all things considered, but I stay up way too late reliving all the best moments from the day and scrolling through the photos I took on my phone at the park, lingering over all the cheesy selfies of me and Hunter in front of various attractions: King Arthur Carousel, the Millennium Falcon, Sleeping Beauty Castle. In each one, we’re smiling and touching in some way, and as I realize how genuinely happy we look, I feel an echoing smile on my lips that I can’t suppress.
I fall asleep with my phone in my hand.
“Milla,” Hunter’s voice calls, and at first I think I’m dreaming. “Come on, Milla. Time to get up.”
Soft warmth presses against my lips, and it feels incredibly real. So’s the scent of coffee that’s tickling my nostrils. I force my eyes open just a crack to find Hunter next to my bed, a to-go coffee tumbler in his hand and a bemused grin on his face.
“Come on, Sleeping Beauty,” he says. “Your royal carriage ride to Oak Academy awaits.”
“No school,” I mumble, letting my lids fall again. “More kisses.”
“Not gonna say no to that.” He grasps my chin, and next thing I know, there’s tongue in my mouth. Slow. Languid. Burning. His hand travels down m
y neck to trace my collarbone, and a shiver tingles down my spine.
My eyes fly open, and yup. Not a dream. Totally real.
Hunter breaks the kiss, but keeps his lips close. “I brought you coffee and a bagel. We gotta hustle, or we’ll be late.”
His words have me sitting up in bed like a shot.
“Shit,” I say, throwing the covers off. “What time is it?”
“Seven-thirty,” he answers. “Which means you have ten minutes to get ready if I floor it all the way to school and drop you off out front. So hurry.”
Panic courses through me, and I rush to the bathroom to tug a comb through my hair and brush my teeth in record time. When I get back to my room, Hunter’s sitting at the foot of my bed, holding the to-go tumbler and a paper lunch bag I didn’t see before.
He looks up. “Get dressed and you can eat in the car on the way.”
“You made me breakfast?” I ask with a grin.
“I did.”
I turn to my uniform, draped over the desk chair, then look back at Hunter.
Raising an eyebrow, the corner of his lip curls. “You want me to help you put it on?”
“You’re incorrigible.” I give him the side-eye before turning my back to him to pull off my tank top, wiggle into a racerback bra, and slip on my uniform shirt. I only do up two buttons before draping the tie around my neck—I’ll knot it in the car.
There’s no need to look over my shoulder to know he’s watching when I drop my pajama pants, because I can feel his gaze on me. But I’m in too much of a rush to care, and I slide on my skirt before reaching for my stockings. During my time with Isabel, I’ve taken to wearing thigh-highs with black lace at the tops. No one can tell the difference, and they’re much more practical when I need to use the bathroom.
Hunter, however, isn’t interested in practicality. His eyes are drinking in my every movement as I brace my foot on the chair, hike my skirt up, and roll the stockings up my leg, then adjust the lacy silicone band around my thigh.
“Those are new,” he says, his voice gone throaty.
“They are,” I say, letting a hint of teasing creep into my tone.
When I look up, he’s rubbing his jaw, eyeing me like he wants to eat me. He gets up in a fluid movement, coming to stand behind me quicker than a blink.
“As much as I’d like to bend you over that desk right now,” he murmurs as he kisses the side of my neck, making me shiver with judgment-impairing need, “and slide right into you, we have twenty minutes to get to school.”
“That’s a far cry from ‘let’s cut class so we can make out,’” I say, turning to face him.
“I would like nothing more than to do just that,” Hunter states with a cocky smile. “But excelling at school and reading books are your thing. And I already made you miss both of those yesterday.”
My chest expands with warmth and a smile tugs at my lips, because he’s right. Those are my things, and he’s not mocking me for it like others might.
“It was worth it, though.” I grin at him. “Ten out of ten, would skip school again to go to Disneyland with you.”
“Good to know,” he says. After a peck to my lips, he takes my hand. “Now off we go. We’re cutting it close as is.”
We rush out of the house and into his car, Hunter’s foot heavier than usual as he drives us to the Academy. I take care not to spill bagel crumbs all over his precious car, eating the biggest bites I can manage and washing it all down with hot, sweet coffee.
“You’re not complaining, so I’m assuming I make a decent bagel,” Hunter says from the driver’s seat.
It’s literally putting a bagel in a toaster, waiting for it to be done, and spreading cream cheese on it, but I don’t give him shit. “What can I say? You’ve left me in utter awe of your culinary skills with this perfectly toasted delicacy.”
On the way, I look at my phone and see that he texted me three times before coming over.
Hey, it’s 7:20—where are you?
And then a few minutes later: 5 mins and still unread…you slept through your alarm, didn’t you?
And finally, Don’t be mad, but I’m using my spare key to come wake you up.
I shake my head, unable to suppress my smile. This is too sweet.
Hunter could’ve left me to take the bus on my own, or he could have let me oversleep and just driven us both to school late. Instead, he made breakfast and came to get me up, rushing me to get ready so I wouldn’t miss any classes.
By some miracle, we actually get to school with about two minutes to spare until the first bell. But because I spent the entire ride thinking about Hunter, I forgot to tie my tie. I sigh, and flip the passenger mirror open.
“Wait, here.” He reaches out and picks up both ends of the tie. “Stay still.”
I direct a frown at his own tie, and the mess it is. “Do you even know how to tie a knot?”
“I do, actually.”
I arch my brow. “If you can tie a knot, then why not do yours?”
“Because when it’s yours, I can do this.” He tugs at the fabric, bringing me closer until our lips meet. His tongue runs along the seam of my lips, and my mouth parts under the light pressure to welcome it inside.
I shouldn’t be indulging in this when we have thirty seconds to get through the Academy’s doors, and it takes at least two minutes to power walk there from the far end of the parking lot. Still, he’s such a good kisser, with his own gravitational pull, that it takes all my willpower to push him gently away.
“Less kissing,” I say, “more tie-knotting.”
Hunter pulls away with a sigh and finishes the knot. Every precise movement of his hands sends a shiver of heat down my spine.
“There you go,” he says when he’s done.
I look at the mirror above me to examine his handiwork. “Not bad.”
“Told you.” He gives me a lazy smile as he takes a look at the clock on the dash. “I hope you like running, ‘cause we have like, three minutes until second bell.”
I snap back to reality, and rush out of the car. We run to school (well, I run, Hunter just has to walk really fast), and when we part ways at the first floor stairs, he squeezes my hand with a look that leaves me more breathless than I already am.
Dashing through the door of my World History class, I barely make it into my seat as the second bell finishes ringing, swiping a bead of sweat at my temples.
“You okay?” Emmett whispers from the next desk over.
All I can do is nod, because I’m still panting so hard that I can’t talk.
Halfway through the period, my phone buzzes with a text, and I peek down at the screen under my desk. It’s from Hunter.
Will you do me the honor of accompanying me on a lunch date this afternoon?
I text him back with a yes, and realize that I am, once again, grinning like a fool.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hunter
Even though we spent all of yesterday together at Disney, and I took Camilla to the park for lunch today, it’s still not enough. It feels like we’re making up for the time we lost when we were away from each other. And for the time we’ll lose if she sticks to her plan of breaking things off between us when she goes to college—though I have every intention of changing her mind, once I figure out how to do that.
So after Milla finishes her babysitting shift with Harry, I ask her out to dinner, and not just because I don’t want to eat at home where Dad and Karleigh might be bickering at the table per usual.
I want to take Milla to the lighthouse again.
I want her to remind me, again, that there are better things out there.
We get burgers at The Sweet Spot, and split a giant brownie sundae at the end. The whole time we’re there, I’m remembering what happened last time we met at this place. She’d been with Isabel, me with the guys, and we’d both ignored each other until I got to my car and saw that she was about to walk home alone. I insisted on giving her a ride, and we ended up at th
e lighthouse. I remember it like it was yesterday. I’d brought her there on a whim, but it ended up being the first time we kissed.
When we get to the spot where I can make the turn to head there, I take it.
“Where are you…” Milla starts, then realizes it. “Oh. The lighthouse.”
“Unless you’d rather go straight home?” I ask.
Milla leans back in her seat, smiling. “No. It’s pretty up there. Let’s do it.”
The place is dark on arrival, and I use my phone’s flashlight app as we go up the steps and out onto the balcony. When Milla looks up at the sky, her wondering smile is brighter than the stars twinkling above us.
I wrap my arm around her waist, desperate to hold on to her light. Milla leans against me, resting her head on my chest. “I love it here,” she says with a sigh.
“Good memories?” I tease, but I mean the question sincerely.
“Don’t pretend you’re not a little sentimental too,” she teases back.
“I am,” I tell her, all seriousness as I look her in the eye. “You had me tied in knots for weeks—months—before that night. I couldn’t forget it even if I tried.”
“I did try,” she admits. “But I couldn’t shake you.”
My chest tightens at her words. Of course she tried to forget what happened between us here, with nothing but the night sky to witness. I was such an ass then.
I trace the curve of her shoulder with my thumb. “What else were you thinking? Back then?”
She scoffs. “That you didn’t have good intentions. You still don’t.”
“I had the best of intentions,” I mockingly correct.
“Right.” Milla arches her brow. “You totally brought me here just to lift my spirits and not to make out with me.”
I laugh. “I guess at some point, me making an attempt was inevitable.”
Milla looks away, the night sky reflected in her dark eyes. “Well, I’m glad it turned out how it did. You clearly knew what you were doing.”
Her words give me pause, and I hesitate before saying, “Does that bother you?”
